FMA: Noire
by foxinschlox
Summary: The streets of Central run red with more than just blood. Its underbelly hides a world of luxury, scandal and copious violence- home to three rival Families who make their fortune bootlegging a so-called elixir of eternal life. -Nothing is what it seems-
1. Episode 1: Qualms

FMA Noire: Episode The First.

A calm voice echoed somewhere in the back of his mind: "Somewhere along the line, could you have done differently?"

"Don't you _dare_ bullshit me!" he growled from the very pit of his throat.

Flesh met knife. The body wracked against the sheer force of the blade. A disgusting warmth filled the air along with a woman's muffled scream, but a stare as sharp as the blade's edge remained locked on the one at its mercy.

"You're gonna kill her..." a smug voice crept out from the corner of the room.

"Shut your fucking mouth. I didn't ask for any opinions."

"Very classy, kid."

There was another thrust of the knife; another cry of agony.

"What have his boys done with my brother?... I know he's responsible. And don't think I won't bleed you dry until you tell me what those sick bastards have done to him. Damn it, tell me where he is!"

His voice remained venomous, clenched painfully between his teeth- void of control. Tears were welled in the corners of his golden eyes which were now bloodshot and predatory. The Red Elixir. His heart- no, his whole being- ached to forget he'd ever heard of it. At his back, standing guard, a man wept behind his glasses, his shoulders heaving. Unashamed.

Shame didn't exist in this city anymore. All that remained on its bones was a layer of rotting 'family' hierarchy, lies, fornication, and dirty money. Its last stance of hope had been corrupted to the core.

So it seemed.

[Welcome to Fullmetal Alchemist: Noire]

[A Year Earlier in a Dark Alley in Central, Amestris.]

"Hey Lust..."

"Yes, _what_?"

"What's the plan this time?"

"What the plan is always; kill the alchemist and rob him blind without leaving a trace...oh, how stupid of me. _Former_ alchemist."

"Really? I don't remember the 'robbing him blind' part being in the fine print of our contract."

"You should learn to read between the fine print, Envy."

"Either way... it should be entertaining. Why with all those swanky people and cocktail sausages and what-not around..."

"This is a _quiet _job, remember? Nothing fancy. Keep in mind what we're dealing with."

"...I'm not making any promises. If _this_ guy's going to die tonight he's sure to make it a good show."

[In Which the Elric Brothers are Invited to a Luxurious Evening at a Military Ball]

The rain pouring down from above seemed to be as ink black as the night sky, and it left nothing below unpainted. I held my coat close to my chest, and looked over my shoulder to find Al doing the same. The wind pressed against our backs, shoving us on.

It was the eighth night. The eighth night without a steady roof over our heads, without a substantial meal, without a prayer leaving either of our lips- only the occasional profanity or complaint. Since we left home there remained a constant scowl across my face that went well with the emptiness in my chest. As to be expected, he was taking this a hell of a lot better than I was. As far as I could tell anyway.

I had never wanted to use alchemy more at this point than in my entire life... but a promise was a promise. Alchemists were being "bumped off" every day now. Silently and efficiently. All they were to the hitmen who hunted them down were names to be scratched off of a list.

_Someone_ had an efficient business racket going.

The dimly lit sign for a diner reflected in the puddles ahead of us. With both of our heads down like shamed dogs it was the only way we could have noticed it.

Reaching into my pocket and felt for the only money we had left. I tried to keep my voice upbeat, "Want to go halfsies on a sandwich Al? You really look like you could use-..."

"We should save it," he cut me off. Water poured in a steady trickle off the rim of his fedora, making him look even more pathetic as he stared up at me with those big, sad eyes.

I wanted to tell him that I regretted every step we took since coming to Central, and to kick myself in the gut. I forced a smile instead, "You're right. We should. Guess I'm still used to eating like we did back home." - which was eating at all.

We stopped to take shelter beneath the diner's awning. It was late evening and those who cared to brave the weather were out and going about their business. I took off my hat and discreetly shook the water from of the tips of my hair that had gotten wet. Three young women eyed me intently from under their umbrellas as they passed. Their dresses looked expensive, which was why they hurried along their way, lifting the hems off the wet ground.

"They're dressed nice," commented Alphonse passively. I noticed the tiny hint of a smile on his face; most anything in a skirt could cheer him up. "Wonder if there's some kind of big party going on tonight."

"These damn rich people probably have fancy parties every night here... it's a wonder where they get all the money. The rest of the nation is starving," I scoffed, pressing the tip of my tongue angrily against the back of my teeth. "It makes me sick."

From out of the corner of my eye, down the block a little ways I noticed a glint of light shine off the exterior of a luxurious car door as it opened.

A man stepped out- obviously wealthy, not that I cared. Around the other side of the car came four other guys who fanned out their umbrellas to hold over his pompous head of slicked black hair. A woman walked at his side in a white silk dress concealed beneath a mink coat; her face was serious, negating the lighter mood of the others in his party. He carried on with his arm was slung over her shoulder and a damp cigar clinched between his teeth.

This guy really thought he was something else. It pissed me off just to hear his smug laugh coming down the sidewalk in our direction. Forcing myself to stare at the ground, I felt like I should have nudged Al to stop gawking at them.

What happened next was exactly what I wished not to. Stopping in his tracks, the guy looked over at me with slimy grin crawling across his face, and said, "You boys look like you could use a stiff drink."

I thought better than to answer with a swift "up yours." An unamused glare in his direction sufficed.

He held out his hand to my brother to shake, his men unfaltering at keeping the umbrellas held over every inch of him. What was this guy's issue with a little rain water?

"Actually, a bite to eat wouldn't be so bad at the moment," replied Alphonse in a nauseatingly innocent voice. I couldn't believe it, he was shaking the bastard's hand. With one hand I straightened my tie and coughed aggressively, hoping to correct my idiot brother. There were more than a few suspicious mugs in this city. We couldn't be taking chances.

A couple of lighthearted laughs came from his men; the woman kept her poker face, but looked over at me, narrowing her eyes just a bit beneath her blonde bangs.

"Then they'll just have to come with us," she suddenly spoke, her expression lightening as she turned to Al. There was something off in the way she smiled.

"I'm for it," chimed the shortest man in the group. He nodded and adjusted his glasses, "we could use some new company."

Did we really look that pitiful? We had to have... either that or these people were just looking to pull two homeless young men off the street for kicks. Nevermind that we were dressed in the only semi-decent clothes we had left, maybe giving the impression that we were at least somebodies at some point. Yeah. For the most part we were homeless and pitiful.

"No thanks," I snapped, "we're not interested in being a part of any charity projects." Internally I smiled at the awkward silence that followed.

That silence was soon calmly shattered.

"Oh I think you may want to reconsider," the woman spoke slowly, deliberately. My eyes flashed down to where her hand was concealed within her coat. In that hand was pointing the mouth of gun squarely at my chest.

If it weren't for the fact that we were in public I would have acted differently. In the midst of this stand up I kept my head on straight, and Al quickly caught wise to what was going on, to my relief. Still, the sly look on her boss's face told me not to underestimate the severity of the situation. One thing was for sure- powerful people could always get away with the ugliest things.

Another thing was certain too. We would be going with them.

The rich bastard leaned closer to me, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks. "Opportunity doesn't stand around waiting in the rain, kid. Sometimes it demands your attention," his smooth voice insisted, accompanied by only pounding of the rain.

"Come along, boys. The hell if I'm going to show up late for my own goodbye party..."

[In Which the Young Master Sells His Soul for a Devil]

My master had always believed in the benefit of change. As children we had both been taught that change is a natural part of life- through the seasons, the weather, within ourselves- though our upbringings were vastly different. Our people had always adapted to survive, just as he would come to change dramatically to become part of this bizarre, dangerous world.

Becoming part of it would be as easy as slipping into a blood bath, but first we needed the key to get in the door. The young master needed the experience he didn't have, and fast.

Unfailingly, I would follow him anywhere. Following him down that long, twisting flight of brick stairs into utter darkness was, however, the last place I wanted to be. It wasn't the journey down I feared. It was what we sought. We sought that key.

"For the last time, Lanfan, I am sure I want to do this." He didn't sound annoyed, only insistent. Still, it felt like a kick in my side.

I started to beg him to reconsider again, but my grandfather shushed me immediately. I didn't have to look behind me to know that he held his handgun up, close to his face, finger steady on the trigger. There was also a knife ready to be drawn in the front inside pocket of his black tailored suit, same as was hidden in mine.

Shadows sealed up the path behind us. It was the perfect setup for a perfect trap and we were climbing down into the heart of it. Business as usual.

Despite everything within that screamed at me to keep silent, I spoke again, "Forgive me, but there has to be another way... another way to go back home."

The young lord stopped abruptly on one of the crumbling steps.

His voice echoed through the emptiness, "We can never go back. At least I can't."

I had never felt so helpless, so alone in this world than in that moment. That spoke for quite a bit, considering we had severed ourselves from everything we once knew- everything apart from each other. We continued our descent without another word.

Our feet soon met with solid ground. The light from the young master's lamp led us into a hollowed out room at the base of the stairs. Everything around us felt stagnant, all except for the telltale energy radiating from within the room. Within we would find was what we were promised to find: a tall, bearded man with the answer to our crisis, sitting at a long table... sitting in wait.

Both grandfather and I kept close to the young master's side as we approached this man who had before our arrival kept himself concealed within total darkness. Nothing seemed right about being here.

"Welcome to what may possibly be the worst decision of your life," a sleazy sort of voice came from behind our backs.

I looked quickly over my shoulder to see the man to whom this voice belonged. He was clad in a white suit and his eyes flashed with an oddly violent glint in the minimal light. As he made his way to the table I snapped my head forward so to make no further eye contact. However, I could feel him brush against my side when he passed and the smoke from his cigarette against my face as he regarded me with a muttered "hmm".

Before us the bearded man's deep voice cut through the heavy air, "I can assume you have with you something of equal value for this exchange."

Grandfather slid the large briefcase he carried onto the table, careful to keep his grip on the handle until the word would be given.

"My entire inheritance... take it all as payment. I have no need for my father's money any longer," answered the young lord. It was easy to tell that he was choking back the painful tinge in his voice.

"Hm, your circumstances are interesting from what I've heard," smirked the man. "For all his desperation, the 12th prince in the line for the Xingese throne was denied his place by an older brother. I've heard other things as well... I've heard you were cheated out of the deal..."

I could feel my fist clinch tight at my side.

"That hatchet has been buried... there is nothing left for me there. I wish to start my own empire, and I was told you have the means for me to do that," the prince replied calmly. It was as if he were physically swallowing his pride.

The bearded man laughed heartily to himself. "An empire of rats and whores and filthy traitors for subjects... that is all any of the big-time snakes slithering above our heads have mangaged to build up here. But one can't help asking himself... 'do I have what it takes to do something greater?'"

The man's eyes locked on to my young master's. A silent contract was signed right then that would change the course of our lives forever and would come to test every ounce of loyalty I carried within me.

This was a final stand, and in every sense of the word, it was insane.

"You're gonna be giving up a lot more than a shit-load of money for this little number," said the white suited man through a malicious grin, opening his own case on the table. "It's kinda special."

A terrible shiver made its way up my spine as he revealed a glass syringe tipped with silver needle. Within it shone the precious red liquid- with which could be built incredible fortunes... empires. However, this particular dose had a little something extra swimming around in it.

"Quiet, Kimblee," his boss ordered before gesturing my grandfather and I to step back. "This is the only thing that can guarantee your success in this business. This hellhole may someday soon belong to you, in its entirity. You have my blessing, now as an honored member of this Family."

I found myself shutting my eyes tight, cringing as those fateful footsteps approached the young lord with the syringe. Somewhere in my gut I knew that he could be facing death, but knew just as well that he could look it in the eye and it would turn and hide- and I was viciously proud.

"I trust you're ready for complications?"

"There are always complications." - and it was all too obvious that the prince was smiling when he said it.


	2. Episode 2: Fine Bloody Ruckus

FMA Noire: Episode 2: Fine Bloody Ruckus

[In Which Alphonse Realizes That No Good Will Come of This, However...]

My reflection in the black marble floor below glowered back up at me. I could see my brother's as well, and somehow I could tell he was seething angrily underneath his blank expression. Was this my fault? At this point we had no idea what this man who introduced himself as Mustang wanted with the likes of us.

The only thing we could assume was that he _**knew**_... and so tight-lipped and compliant we took the harrowing walk beside him and his boys through the grand doors of the ballroom.

All around us mingled Central's most affluent society- men studded with medals and other honorable tags of their dog-ship to the military, women dressed in their finest gowns, the soft light of the room catching on their jewelry and accentuating the deep red of their painted lips. Candlelight, a table decked with delicacies, crystal chandeliers- the works.

It was a picturesque scene, but in the midst of all this perfection I couldn't help feeling out a strange tension in the air, and by our sides.

My brother's growly voice seemed to come out of nowhere. "_Again_, may I ask the reason we owe you the pleasure of this invitation?" He directed the biting question at Mustang. "We're not quite used to being forced into situations against our wills by total strangers yet. As you can tell, we're kind of new to these parts."

It almost disturbed me that he was being so calm. Ed was known best for flying off the handle in times of stress.

"All of your questions will be more than answered before the evening's spent," Mustang replied between puffs of the cigar we never saw him light. "See, we didn't really have the time to stand around and argue with you until you decided to come with us... time's like lifeblood in this town. But you're here for a reason. A _very_ good reason. Seems some god somewhere has smiled upon both of you."

"So I guess you think that justifies threatening us at gunpoint?" Edward scoffed.

"Are you going to keep bringing that up?" Mustang raised an eyebrow. A bit of the champagne in the glass he had been handed by a stranger splashed out as he gestured intently at my brother.

Two of Mustang's men were speaking in a hushed tone behind our backs. I tried my best to stare straight ahead, but my eyes kept wandering to the blonde in the white dress who kept close to my left shoulder- 'Miss Hawkeye' if I'd remembered her name properly. No doubt her gun was still warm in her grasp from where her hand was still hidden in her coat.

What on earth were these guys planning?

Our group halted when we met up with a man who discreetly waved Mustang down. The guy's quick "come on" gesture beckoned us to one of the great pillars that lined the edges of the ballroom. We gathered together, Ed and I still without a clue what we were doing here, bemusedly following their lead.

"Who do we have here?" smiled the man who joined us, casting his friendly gaze down at my brother and I.

"Honored guests," smiled Hawkeye who took her place at Mustang's side again.

"May I introduce the Elric brothers," Mustang nodded himself. "Boys, this devil's a good friend of mine... the recently retired lieutenant colonel Hughes... If only everyone could be so lucky." The two of them winked at each other.

I couldn't help fidgeting uncomfortably- I could tell Ed was upset with me for revealing our real names. Figured our lives were more important than our identities, given the predicament. Come to think of it though, it was pretty careless..

"Ah, so these must be new recruits for the business campaign," Hughes grinned. "We'll have lots to discuss after dinner this evening."

"_**What**_ business campaign?" my brother snapped at Mustang, "We agreed to none of this."

"Relax kid, we're just offering you a job you'd be certifiably insane to turn down. By the looks of things you could use one... Like I said, details later," chuckled the ex-colonel, patting Ed on the back.

They began to talk casually among themselves. No one could have thought up a more awkward scene to place my plainly dressed brother and I in than that room full of tuxes, ballgowns and expensive champagne. A touch of fear kept us quiet.

My eyes wandered again, this time over to a black grand piano lit by spotlight at the end of the ballroom.

A child, no older than ten years and dressed in a white shirt and tailored brown vest sat at its bench, his hands gracing effortlessly over the keys, urging out of them a sultry evening tune. Even from where I stood I could tell that the kid's technique was next to perfect, especially for someone his age. I had studied piano for a while, though Ed had teased me about it. Out of everything going around us, this kid piqued my interest the most.

Ed's eyes were trained on something else. I soon snapped my attention away from the music and followed his line of sight to what looked like a handful of foreigners arguing among themselves at the bar not far from where we stood: a young woman with her hair tied up in a bun above the neckline of her gown, an old man, and a guy who seemed like he would just as soon kill you as look at you, the oddly wine-tinted centers of his eyes darting back and forth over the room as their bickering continued...

...and then, _her_.

* * *

><p>[In Which the Proverbial Shit Meets the Proverbial Fan]<p>

"Who are they?" questioned Mustang. He narrowed his eyes.

Hughes answered quickly and quietly, "I _think_ some kind of out of town big-shot and his representatives. A few of my men on the inside caught wind of a business deal going on between those Xingese mugs and the higher-ups..."

I couldn't give less of a damn if I tried.

Over at the bar, this foreign guy, hair tied back in a pony tail with possibly the most pretentious look on his face I had ever seen, folded his arms and grinned as the woman he was with berated him on and on about something. She was obviously trying to keep her voice low but I could easily tell she was highly upset with him. It was probably something he said.

Two others were with them- an uptight looking older fellow and a young lady. All four had the distinctive appearance of easterners. The girl carried a peculiar bag on her arm that moved every now and then. Something was inside of it. She kept her wide eyes low, her hands crossed before her and wore expression of great worry.

"Is the bar free?" I asked one of Mustang's boys gruffly, still making it clear that I wasn't enjoying this. However, I was a bit curious, though I'm still not completely sure why. Maybe I was finally admitting to myself that I could use a drink.

"Come on, kid," he said, fetching a new cigarette from his pocket and rubbing the back of his neck. "It's the least we can do- gonna' be a long night for all of us."

I nodded to my brother to follow the blonde guy and I over to the bar. It was safe to say he didn't need any extra encouragement. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what he looked so goddamn happy about. I just wanted to get away from this crowd of stiffs; that suspicious little party of four at the bar was at least more interesting... it wasn't everyday you saw foreigners in Central, why with all of the government regulation going on at the time.

A long table dressed with an elegant white cloth and enough fancy dinner food to feed a small country was set up near the bar. I decided I would hit that shortly after.

The man introduced as Havoc ordered all three of us a scotch. Distracted as always, my brother paid little attention to us, but was rather fixated on the doll-faced Xingese girl. Out of the corner of my eye I watched her steal a glance at him before turning to my drink. Ugh.

The music that had been playing fell away, and a deep voice grabbed hold the attention of everyone in the ballroom. I guessed the man it belonged to was some kind of military head-honcho.

"This evening I would like to honor a man whose efforts have more than solidified him as a legend in his own right among his brothers and sisters serving in our honorable State Military..."

His voice faded off from my disinterested mind. I figured all of this was Mustang's goodbye address from his higher-ups. "Achievements-this" and "great loss to the service-that"... whatever this guy had done, apparently it deserved 20 minutes worth of a mind-numbing speech. I looked over briefly to Mustang for only a moment. His face was stalwart in response.

Then, without warning, a strange voice rang out, "-It is with our deepest sympathy that we bid farewell to our dear Colonel!"

Sudden wrenching gasps were heard from every corner of the ballroom as everyone at once regarded the wild eyed man who now held a knife to Mustang's throat. Here was the origin of that chilling voice.

How this whack-job had gotten so close to the former Colonel without being noticed in the first place was a mystery to me. From where I stood I could see everyone around them frozen still in place as the assailant's knife lingered close to his neck, urging everyone standing near Mustang to step away.

_Now _the night was picking up.

A shout caught in Havoc's throat. Al tensed up at my side, a look utter shock across his face. Everyone's eyes were fixed on Mustang's, which were cold and deadly serious in response to the threat pointing a knife at his jugular from behind his back. You could practically feel the tension of over a hundred held breaths in the building.

"Our apologies, ladies and gentlemen! Seems there's been a little mix up in tonight's entertainment..." another harsh voice boomed out across the room, accompanied with a chilling shriek of agony that resonated against the walls.

The man who had been giving the speech a little earlier dropped off of his platform in a crumpled heap with blood pooling from the stab wound straight through his chest. Now standing at the mic, to the entire ballroom's horror, was yet another psychopath grinning back at the mass of people and, of course, a bloodied knife in hand.

This one, however, looked more like a freak of nature than just your average schmuck waving a weapon around in public. A woman with lustrous dark hair suddenly emerged from the crowd with two long, double barreled derringers she had pulled from the garter holsters beneath the skirt of her slinky black dress.

She threw one of guns to the smug-looking murderous son-of-bitch on the platform who took up the mic again and shouted, "We were originally gonna' do this all peaceful like. Now, see, our little poseur back there with the hand blade is either going to let _us_ have the honor of offing the flame alchemist... or my dear sister here and I get to blow you all to hell. Nothing personal- it's strictly orders... you military dogs should appreciate that kind of thing."

It seemed this all happened in the blink of a moment, hardly giving anyone time to realize the severity of what was going on around them.

When they did realize... oh dear God, did they realize.

* * *

><p>[In Which Lanfan Wastes Her Breath on Multiple Occasions]<p>

"Master!" I shouted at him, finally resorting to tugging sharply at the sleeve of his coat. Apparently I was now interrupting him from stuffing his face with the food and drinks from the bar.

"What is it, woman? Can't you see I'm trying to...-" he was cut off immediately by a few rounds of bullets being fired off in rapid succession, followed by the sounds of mass panic from the other side of the crowd. For the past few moments, the threats being thrown around, shocked gasps and all other matter of disturbances going on in the ballroom hadn't phased him somehow.

"Oh."

His eyes widened, though none of it stopped him from shoving the last of the meat h'ordeuvres into his mouth before grabbing me by the wrist and running in the direction of the fray.

"Watch the room's entrance, May!" I called to her over my shoulder. Determinedly she nodded back, releasing Shao May from the bag on her shoulder and dashing off in the other direction. My grandfather had long since slipped off to investigate the source of the hysteria.

Our original plan had been to keep surveillance on Mustang for the evening, a plan which was backfiring even more with every gunshot that rang out.

Grandfather and I could have done this in a more efficient, less visible way, however, _someone_ was intent on schmoozing with the elite, fine food and champagne that evening himself... this scenario was starting to sound far too predictable.

By now the former Colonel's assailant had split. Mustang himself seemed to have had dissipated into thin air. He was nowhere to be seen.

Shoving frantic people out of our way with one hand and holding onto me tightly with the other, my master barreled through the panicking crowd, resisting the direction the chaos was heading which was naturally toward the main entrance.

"Those idiots. I can't believe they showed up to this... How did we get dragged into such a clusterfuck?" he growled furiously over the noise.

I was not even going to attempt to honor that with an answer. He knew damn well why. We were very much obliged to. Business doesn't secure itself, after all, and nothing was normal about this job.

We took the grand double doorway that lay at the end of the ballroom- it had been locked before, but my master made quick work of busting through it with his free arm. It opened into a long red carpeted hallway. This was the 9th floor of the building; a staircase wouldn't be difficult to find.

We threw ourselves against the hidden wall as soon as the hall split ways. The building's foundation seemed to shake with the many footsteps and shouts from the main room.

"This wasn't a complete bust, ya' know," he laughed.

"What gives you that idea?" I quipped sharply.

"Try being a bit more observant, sweetheart. Mustang's still got ties with Hughes. That's important. More importantly, Hughes is still alive- as far as I know at _this_ point- and that can only mean he's been pushing more than coffin varnish these days to afford not getting his throat slit in his line of work."

"How on earth do you know about all of this?"

"Intuition, babe, and just a touch of foresight... and that's not all the valuable intel I picked up tonight. _Far_ from it. Sure's hell glad I had the idea of coming myself tonight." The self-satisfied way he looked down at me was enough to make my stomach churn... I was so tired of arguing.

I quickly broke eye contact with him. "So I take it you mean you know something about whoever's shooting off their guns in there?"

"More than I'd like to..."

We both sensed immediately that someone was running down the hall, just about to round the corner. Reaching out with an arm of hardened carbon, my master was quick to catch hold of them.

"Look what we have here!" he laughed, holding the struggling blonde boy up by the collar of his jacket with one black-clawed hand, amused at how the young man squirmed and thrashed out at him. As I was still trying to catch my breath I scowled back at him- was this some kind of game?

"Where's the girl? The girl that was with you... is she alright?" the young man demanded.

One name quickly snapped to my mind: May. The prince's half sister, one of my most valuable comrades. Why was he asking about May?

My master pinned him easily against the wall. "You'll find out soon enough, kid. You're coming with us."

* * *

><p>[In Which the Lady Receives an Order]<p>

"Goddammit, Hawkeye, I wasn't planning on leaving without those boys..." the boss grumbled between his teeth as we proceeded deeper into back alley we had escaped to. At least this part was going according to plan. The man he'd hired to act as his assailant had taken the same way out.

"It'd be best to forget them, sir."

"You know I dislike not having my way."

"Yes. I know."

"What are the chances that Hughes and my men got out of there okay?"

"If it's such a concern we can go back."

"I'm a dead man now... not an option."

Without warning the boss halted his steps, making me stop abruptly for a moment to look back at him in the moonlight.

"You know who they are now. You will find them for me- at any cost." His words carried to straight to my core, unfailingly clear.

However, when I peered around the boss's shoulder toward the sound of footsteps closing in on us, it looked as if the older of the two brothers had found _us_ instead.


	3. Episode 3: Sweet Tension

FMA: Noire - Episode 3:

[In Which Homunculi Make Inefficient Exterminators]

"Ah, shit! Where'd our rat go?"

"You expect me to hear you over all this screaming?" Lust snapped the neck of the man writhing in her grasp, diving a hand into his pocket to retrieve a fine watch and loaded bank roll. Foam fell disconcertingly from the corner of the victim's mouth.

"I lost sight of Mustang!"

"You _what_?"

Four long claws shot out to make a stab for Envy's throat. He only cocked a gracefully annoyed sideways glance back at her. "By now he's crawling through the gutters with that woman of his... without Gluttony it'll take a miracle to find him ourselves in one night. His body was supposed to come back in _our_ hands," she hissed.

"This entire evening's turned to a pissing contest. It's not my fault they threw a kink in our plan. A little late to get an attitude about it now, don't you think?"

"One simple assignment, and you couldn't even take care of that," a child's voice droned from behind them. "There was no sense in causing such a disorganized mess. Honestly, this is beyond incompetence... I was supposed to play another solo piece later."

The body dropped limp from Lust's fatal grip; by this time the ballroom had completely vacated apart from them, and a sinister silence seemed to rest itself over the handful of corpses splayed about the marble floor. The rest had scrambled out of the building with all the grace and dignity of a herd of frantic beasts.

"Hmph. Didn't see you jumping at the chance to take him down," snarled Envy, "not after that jackass with the knife interfered. Couldn't imagine anything going over smooth after that... looks like Mustang disappeared right along with him."

"No matter," the kid smiled, narrowing his eyes and shuffling the piano sheet music he held in his hands. "Despite you're general lack of class throughout whole situation, I'm sure I can manage an explanation when I tell The Bawse about the pair of strays it seems our target plans on taking in... Mustang thinks he's found himself the perfect little vessels, hasn't he?"

A smearing of blood was drawn across the bottom of those pages of notes he held, heavy and darkened. It looked nearly like spilled ink.

[In Which Roy Mustang Immediately Gets What He Wants]

"You're just going to ditch your honored guests?" the older Elric glared back at me through the shadows that shrouded him. "Honestly, I'm hurt, Mustang."

"Where is your brother?" I questioned him gravely. My eyes darted to my assistant then back again. Her face remained stone cold- the gun beneath her coat a coiled cobra, prepared to strike at the boy if he decided to get wise and take a shot at killing me.

I was prepared- I _wanted_- to see him make a vital move...

"That's exactly what I'd love to hear from you. Why don't you fill me in."

"Don't you think it would be wiser on my part to use your brother as leverage in this position if I knew, instead of asking ridiculous questions?"

Failing to answer, he stepped closer until I could see the whites of his eyes in what little light filtered down to that wrenched dark crevice between buildings.

The way I smirked knowingly down at him seemed to infuriate the little brat. 'C'mon kid,' I thought to myself 'don't call my bluff just yet... you still gotta' show your fangs for us first.' I hoped that message would carry straight through to him.

"If you think I'm lying, you could always use force," I insisted.

Lowering his head, he let some of his hair fall into his eyes as he peered angrily up at me; obviously he wasn't in the mood for games.

"Please," the kid spat. "I'm not stupid enough to tangle with a freak like you- flame alchemist."

It was a bold call, I'd give him that. My eyes widened as he repeated my exposed identity; my grin spread tighter.

"_Now_ we were being drop-dead honest with each other. You know I'm willing to tell you a great deal if you'll do the same for us..."

He continued, voice growing harsher, "All I wanna' know is if you're responsible for what happened back there- and what the hell happened to Al in the middle of it. We got separated. I know it wasn't by accident..."

"Relax, champ." I waved for Hawkeye to come closer. This stalemate was going to have to go somewhere real soon; we couldn't afford to stay still much longer.

"One thing about me you should probably be aware of, Mr. Elric- I'm always willing to work around complications. That stands to include sleazy, lunatic hit men employed by God-knows-who screwing over my plans for a clean fake death, see? But there is _always_ more than one way to skin a good number of things..."

The kid opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off to save time.

"As for your brother, it should be cake for my boys to find him- and we intend to, tonight. Trust me when I say they're well equipped to locate anyone, anywhere in this filthy town. They're the best chance you've got... and as I'm sure you've realized by now, we understand the full extent of what you two are capable of."

In that moment he looked as though he were more than ready to slug me.

"So you recognized us and brought us here to make an offer?" he uttered darkly instead.

A subtle laugh escaped me. I looked him square in the eyes and spoke like I was selling something, "This may not be the best time to lay all the cards out for you... but how do you feel about full protection under one of the most powerful organizations in this city, legitimate freedom unheard of for our kind, for _alchemists_, in years- not to mention one hell of a paycheck. You know that's saying a great deal, considering the rest of the country's scraping along in this depression."

My attention snapped to a sudden shout that passed by the alley's end, at which I turned on my heels, tugged my hat down over my eyes and gestured for Edward and my assistant to follow me deeper into the passage between the deteriorating buildings that surrounded us. At any given moment we may have been in danger of being spotted, and as accustomed as I was to playing with fire, I didn't want to take any more chances than I had to that night.

The pace of my words quickened as did our steps, "Sooner or later you and your brother will need our kind of security. Tonight was just the tip of the iceberg- the schmucks pulling the strings in this town are getting more and more desaturated to put us _all_ down. Don't think you can get away with hiding your identities on your own for much longer."

My offer was followed by short-lived silence. The young man looked resentfully over to my assistant and then to me as we carried on through the dark. If I couldn't get him to display his power for me, to prove that he needed to join us by letting his guard down, I at least hoped he would be cool-headed enough to reason it out.

"Find him first," he practically ordered me, halting us to a stop when we reached the corner of the building we walked beside. "_Then_ maybe _he_ can give me one good reason why I should even consider this offer instead of throttling you with my bare hands."

"No problem," Hawkeye winked. "You're looking at the freshly crowned head lion of Central's underground district. Severing our ties with those government wolves was just the start..."

"Better believe it, doll. There's nothing I can't take care of- as long as we can get back to the den with our heads still on our shoulders. My men are instructed to meet us there, no matter the circumstances."

Shouts echoed against the walls of the buildings at our backs. At one side I felt Hawkeye press closer to my side, reacting to my tension. Faster than we could realize, she had whipped out her gun to face the shadows swallowing the path we had just emerged from. We worked, as always, like a well oiled machine.

It was my honest wish to turn those boys into something just as fatal.

Steps from a pair of heavy boots were closing in on us from around the corner that concealed us. Hawkeye tugged Edward between the two of us and positioned her gun to aim over my shoulder. With gloves back on, in turn I readied my hand, not knowing and certainly not caring who else's corpse would have to meet pavement to guarantee our freedom that night.

"You could have picked a better night to die, Colonel," the voice to whom the steps belonged came from the other side of the wall.

Edward reacted before I could stop him...

* * *

><p>[In Which We Look Back a Year Before the Occurrence at the Military Ball to the Beginnings of an Empire]<p>

There I stood at the threshold of the door, terrified to enter, terrified to speak- to even look at him. For all my previous courage, this was the faltering point.

The crooning notes of an alto sax from the dusty mouth of a vintage phonograph floated from inside, mixing with the heady scent of cigar smoke. Everything about that room would come to heighten my senses until they seemed to vibrate within me like a plucked cord. I would have much rather felt nothing; that was what was always expected of me.

Weeks had passed since my young lord had received the curious red injection- highly concentrated, pure and powerful in such a form that it was- at the price of a veritable fortune. I forced myself to understand somehow, as we carried his writhing, thrashing body up those crumbling steps from below, through the grime of Central's underground passageways, to this gritty, abandoned place. To this old building which would become our stronghold.

With the assistance of the Family's money it became our palace.

"Lanfan." I heard my name on his deepened voice from within the room. The way he spoke was so unfamiliar, so animalistic... from even this distance I wondered if any part of my master still remained. "Come here. _Now_, if you will..."

'Obey.' It was a concept, a command that my entire existence was founded upon. I slipped inside his office, head bowed, respectively. I muttered some semblance of a "good evening sir".

Protocol.

Intimidating in presence, he stood from where he had been leaning against his desk, black tie undone around the collar of his shirt- grease stains dark upon its unbuttoned white fabric where he had been handling equipment and crates again.

"I wanted to see you before we call the guys in for the run tonight." He rubbed absently at the back of his neck.

"Is there something I've forgotten to do this evening? My apologies." I wanted so terribly to leave that room; I couldn't stand to see him... like _this_. Not when my master's body was not in his own possession.

"Nah'. Everything is perfect." One corner of his mouth curled into the beginnings of a smirk. "Is it so wrong to want a little company for the evening? We both deserve it... working so damn hard."

From the pocket of his slacks he whipped out a handkerchief to wipe away a spot of oil on the side of his face.

Eyes lowered, I replied, "Must say, I'm sure you could scrape up more interesting company someplace else. As you can imagine, I really don't have much to offer in the way of conversation. I'm only a bodyguard..."

"It's amazing, all the things you can say without words... that is, if you're not afraid to say them," his voice seemed to drip smoothly from his lips, as mellow in tone as the notes from that old phonograph, its sound still meandering out from the corner of the room.

He approached me so fluidly, head high and certain of himself with every step. An odd sensation nipped at the back of my neck while his eyes over me, up and down, as if he were taking some kind of inventory. My grip on the knob of the door behind my back tightened. Nothing here was ever predictable.

One of his arms reached over my head, shutting the door behind me. I flinched.

"C'mon now," he urged, "even though you're fully aware I could break your neck in one quick blow, you know better than to be so nervous around me, hm. I'm sure your prince won't mind if we loosen you up a little, all that useless tension can't be good for your performance. I need you at your best for the job tonight- trust me, no one could fix you quite as good, quite as fast."

Turning my uneasy expression away from him, I spoke firmly, "_You_ should know better than to say such things to a subordinate. The young master would never disregard our moral code that way..."

"See, babe, that's where you're wrong- about both of us. I'm not bound by your people's so-called moral guidelines... and neither is he- not anymore. We have no use for them, 'specially in this line of work."

His eyes peered deeply into mine; I swore he could feel the heat of my face as it began to flush.

For a moment I tried to pull myself away. "Then you mean to say have no use for me anymore, either," my voice strained.

"If that's the way you see it then you are _fatally_ mistaken..."

A swift breath caught in my throat as one of his arms snatched around my waist and drew me close.

"You've been drinking," his voice swept close to my ear as he dragged his face along the side of my neck, smelling my untied hair with a long, heavy breath.

True.

Though I still wanted to slap the living hell out of the bastard, knowing I never could. Not when I knew Ling would feel it later. It was disgraceful that the idea even came to my mind. Everything that had happened to us was disgraceful.

Some nights my pangs of want to leave this place neared the unbearable- so I drank and cried like any honest woman would. Always, with dignity. I always hoped Ling would never see me that way; I guessed by then he knew.

"I should go," the words rasped painfully out of my throat.

I kept my gaze steadily on the shelf of old texts behind his desk. They had been passed to him by the Family's head. Within their dusty spines lay the accounts of old, dirty secrets, some even ancient. So I was told. I knew nothing of such things.

"You won't," he said simply. Suddenly he forced me back by one arm, chest pressed firmly against my own. I gritted my teeth and cast the most lethal glare I could muster back at him.

"You won't because the minute you start to doubt your place in this organization is the very moment you betray us. All of us. You know what I mean, Lanfan- I don't think _Daddy_ would be too jazzed about that. To let you go at this point would be to cross into traitor's territory, and you're no good to us dead."

I felt myself shudder between the wall and the heavy warmth of his entire body leaning close

"Like it or not, you are a _most_ valuable possession- feel flattered, sweetheart. Your contract with me is as binding as blood..."

"Funny," I murmured under my breath, "I don't remember signing anything."

Cupping my chin firmly in one hand, he forced me to look square into those red, predatory eyes. My own betrayed my utter fear. I had allowed myself to be backed into a vulnerable situation- something that in all my former training I was conditioned on pain of death never to do.

"You were born to serve your master," he grinned, licking the corner of his upper lip.

"I was born to serve my _clan_," I snapped and hoped desperately that he didn't feel the shiver that carried up my spine as his hands slipped lower down my back. "My duty to my lord goes as far as his ties to my people. That's all." My voice wavered between anger and a little of something unspeakable...

"Bullshit," he growled softly in my ear.

"But there was nowhere else for us to go... I-I.. we couldn't abandon him in the condition he was in, even if he no longer served-..." I cursed myself inwardly for stumbling over my own excuses.

"Right. You mean to say you're still clinging to the only piece left of a past you no longer have a place in," he laughed cruelly. "This body belonged to a shamed little brat who wasn't man enough to bare the weight of his people on his shoulders. Nah, he wasn't near bloodthirsty enough. So he turned his back on that world and came here to deal diluted philosopher's stone by the case, simply 'cause that's the only way to make a name for yourself in this disgusting place. Now he's the slave of the very thing he sought..."

My shoulders scrunched up tight to my neck as he raised a hand to brush the hair fallen into my eyes out of the way.

"Only I can make something out of him now. It's because of _me_ that he'll soon be sitting at the top rung of this family's hierarchy. It is because of _me_ that he can survive 3 goddamn minutes in this business without coming home coughing up bullets," he emphasized.

Every word he spoke caused a furious bile to well up in the back of my throat. At this point I'd had quite enough. It never took long back then.

"Let me speak to him, Greed. _Now_," I finally demanded, forgoing that 'obedience' complex for a little bite in my tone.

Somewhere within me still lay that beaten-down will to fight. From that moment I would try my damnedest not to pity myself, to reject any fear. Somehow I would have to find a way to help my young master tame this monster. Somehow I had to find his weakness.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" he pressed himself even closer to me. "Seems you think you know exactly what you want, and when you want it. You just don't know how to go about getting it yet."

It was hopeless. His lack of subtlety was almost laughable.

Beside us the door swung suddenly open. In stepped Kimblee, his arrogant expression upturned as usual, accompanied by two burly chimeras who waited after him in the hall.

"The guys packed up the rope and the rest of those boxes of elixir, so we're ready to spilt whenev-... oh my." The alchemist's eyes widened the moment he turned to notice our current position.

If my face hadn't been a horrible shade of red before it certainly was by then.

"Looks like tonight shift's starting a little earlier than usual, gentlemen. Thrilling as always, eh..." Kimblee spoke through a lascivious grin. He swept a glass off of the desk and filled it halfway with the telltale red liquid from the bottle that he had carried in with him.

"You're here kind of early, don't you think?" Greed rolled his eyes. With an irritated sigh he finally released me from his rough grasp and backed off. I could do nothing but lean back against the wall and breathe. My gaze fell, blank and empty down to the floor. It seemed every moment I spent in his presence was emotionally draining.

"This batch is close to holy," sighed Kimblee after a long swig of elixir. He held up the glass to the lamp light. The remaining liquid swirled around at the bottom with an almost blood-like consistency, refracting its gorgeous color in the light like melted precious stone, which was practically what it was.

"It'd better be. The formula's a bit stronger," replied the homunculus at my side, folding his arms. "Everyone's going to want their hands on it before long, I'd say, since the word's already out. We've gotta' move quick tonight."

"Should fetch a good price. Those old rich bastards get more generous the longer the stuff's potency lasts. As long as they have enough of it to keep them going past their expiration date..."

"We shouldn't keep them waiting then." Greed laughed, buttoning the opened front of his shirt before making his way out. Like an obedient dog, the alchemist followed suit. What did that make me?

"And Lanfan," he called to me abruptly the second his foot stepped out of the door, "he said to tell you 'I'm sorry... but don't let us down tonight'. The brat's depending on you."

I knew it for a fact. The monster never lied. It was time to disregard everything; it was time to do my job.

* * *

><p>[In Which the Major General Usually Finds the Headlines Uninteresting]<p>

"Would you look at that... '12 Dead After Armed Assault on Central's Military Ball; Resigned Colonel Missing, Presumed Dead'. Riveting."

"Now aren't you glad we weren't invited, Sir?"

"Honestly Miles, it would have been hell to sit through either way."

"Terrorists, eh. What were the motives on these guys?"

"Looks as if they're pinning these escaped assailants with trying to say they were working for the state to protect their organization's identity... well that checks out nicely. They make a great bloody mess and don't even have the decency to dispose of the right body..."

"I take it you assume the former Colonel's still alive?"

"Please. They'd have to have done a much cleaner job to bring that slimy, double crossing son-of-a-bitch down. No one's going to make my job _that_ easy."


End file.
